On Calm Black waters
by Poppy-Robins089
Summary: Post Reichenbach, Sherlocks back and on the tail of a killer with a taste for Shakespear but before the investigation begins sherlock meets the new 221B resident. Sherlock/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N; Hello this is my first Sherlock story, I don't own Sherlock. (I wish I did)**

"Be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." - William Shakespeare

She wasn't a fussy person, for most of her life she had lived simply, never had the luxury's that most people did but now at 26 she had a paying job and at this very moment she was carrying her black kitten Hamlet toward her new room. After meeting the kind old landlady Mrs Hudson who explained kindly about a bit of a mould problem but she didn't mind really as long as it's safe and warm it didn't matter to her. Pushing open the wooden door she entered the nicely sized flat which already held her things, placing the black fluff ball on the floor she turned back toward Mrs Hudson's kitchen for tea, walking into the kitchen she saw the kind landlady beaming at her placing tea and cake on the table, "Come in make yourself comfortable, it's going to be nice having another woman around not that the boys are bad I do get lonely. Take a seat dear." but before she could reach the table she was stopped by a very deep and alluring voice. "Well you must be the new tenant; finally something is happening around here." He sounded rather bored in her mind.

A/N; Sorry its short but I wanted to make a small introduction of sorts, hope you like it even though there's not much.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N; Here the next chapter hope you enjoy I don't own the Sherlock characters only my OC.

"A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life."- Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare

She turned in surprise to find a tall and very handsome man but it wasn't that that made her freeze; it was the fact that the man before her was Sherlock Holmes the detective raised magically from the dead only two months ago. She had grown a fascination with this man when he first appeared in the press and when she caught a glimpse of him in London, bounding around like a madman. He raised a dark brow at her rabbit in headlights expression, and looked over her long crimson hair, large childlike green eyes and ivory skin to rival his own, but she knew he saw past that, all her flaws were on display for him to pick out and dissect. Mrs Hudson who sensed the tension bust out in a loud voice. "Sherlock! Oh you gave us a fright, always sneaking around. This is Miss Francis she will be making a home of 221C." She spoke in a cheery voice but an underlying nervousness came to the front with thoughts on how the meeting would go. Sherlock ignoring her comment decided to move his eyes back to the young women in front of him she looked to be late twenties at most. "You're a dancer from the way you're standing, a good one too, a ballerina from the way you place your feet, and an actor I see but your nervous a lot and bite your nails… not a good habit for a woman your age. I see you sort out company, your lonely all on your own in London, a bit dangerous don't you think being alone in-."

"Your Sherlock Holmes the consulting detective, I never believed that I would meet you one day." The crimson haired women interrupted getting closer to him. He stared down at her with a look most would flinch at, he did not like being interrupted, she was a few inches shorter then he was. He scowled and looked to Mrs Hudson, "I'm going out, finally a murder has been delivered to me, an copy of Romeo and Juliet, how exciting! Someone is being clever, you know how I like the brilliant ones." it was amazing to see how quickly his mood changed, one minute he was scowling at her, the next an excited gleam shone in his eyes like a child on Christmas morning. As quickly as he came, in a swish of dark coat he fled the kitchen leaving a certain Miss Francis with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, she turned to Mrs Hudson with an incredulous look on her face. The landlady just chuckled chattering quietly about how she missed that boy.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N; I don't own Sherlock (no matter how much I dream about it.)

Sherlock Holmes walked onto the crime scene, the old grave yard was full of police and forensics and of course Sally Donavon was waiting by the tape to let him in. He couldn't help but notice that ever since he had come back after his innocence was proven, Donavon and Anderson could barely look Sherlock in eyes anymore after all they were a part of his hunting party. Sally lifted the tape avoiding his piercing eyes and suddenly took interest in the floor, sighing he approached an old crumbling tomb that held family graves and he spotted Lestrade stood in the door way looking stressed and worn down. "Lestrade what have you got for me?" Greg looked up at Sherlock grimacing, "Its bad, two teenagers a girl and a boy they were found down here by the caretaker just lay next to each other; the girl is in a worse state than the boy we still need to identify them." He led Sherlock down a small corridor which opened up to a dark room and there in the middle lay the teenagers both dress in old clothing the boys body to the right his blonde hair covering his eyes and the girl lay to the left of the boy in a white dress made of lace and silk, blood smeared from her heart and her arm lifted to the boy's face. "We think its suicide some kids copying Romeo and Juliet." Sherlock scowled and glared up at the annoying presence of Anderson and scoffed at the assumption. "You're wrong this is interesting, they were both killed here just like Romeo and Juliet but this was no suicide, this was the work of a killer. Look at the girls wound she wouldn't have been able to do that herself at least not at that angle." He spoke to the room crouching by the girl's body; he then went to the boy's side. "If I am correct the boy would have been poisoned but again not by his own will. Lestrade be prepared I don't think this killer will stop here, it seems someone has a thing theatrics." With that statement he strode from the room and hailed a cab. He had a feeling he was going to be studying Shakespeare or at least Shakespeare deaths.

As he pulled up at 221b he saw the new girl knocking on the door, her long purple coat swished around her knees as she tapped her foot impatiently. He chuckled at her throwing some money to the driver he got out the cab and walked toward the girl, and he realised he had yet to learn here name. She turned at his approach, "oh hello, I locked myself out already I hope you don't mind letting me in." she spoke in embarrassment. "It's not a problem but you should try and keep your key on you at all times-." He stopped at not knowing the flame haired girls name. "Oh how rude of me my name is Ophelia." She stuck her hand out to the detective.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N; I'm sorry I haven't updated in a long time, I had really bad writer block but I have more ideas now.

When Ophelia arrived home from her first audition since moving to London she found Sherlock stabbing a giant teddy bear with a very large kitchen knife, his movements were quick and deadly if it wasn't a teddy bear he would of looked scary. She stood in the doorway in her purple coat and black tutu with her mouth open and eyes wide staring at the mad man, Sherlock still hadn't noticed her standing in the doorway. "What are you doing Sherlock?" she finally burst, the detective spun round with the knife, "I'm experimenting dear Ophelia and Mrs Hudson wouldn't allow a real body to be used so I brought a bear I needed something about the size of a female teenager." Ophelia slowly pulled off her coat as Sherlock inspected the stab wounds on the bear. "Did you get the job then?" he mumbled while playing with a ruler. "How did you- never mind and I don't know yet their going to-." she stopped abruptly as the detective walked straight past her to his room. "fine then." she mumbled flopping down on the arm chair in front of the fire. "So Sherlock hows your case going; found the killer yet?" she called out but it was very quiet almost too quiet,"Sherlock?" she got up and slowly tiptoed to his bedroom, the door wasn't fully closed so she pushed it open, walking fully into the room it was empty but the window was open, Ophelia went to the window to peer out but it was too dark to see. "where the hell are-." she scream as a arm grabbed her from behind and place a knife to her chest, she thrashed and screamed until a hand covered her mouth. "the killer defiantly stabbed the girl from behind." Sherlock released her as she calmed her heart. "what do you think you are doing? Are you crazy I thought I was going to die!." he still ignored her, she grabbed his arm to turn him around they were face to face, Sherlock frowned at her and pulled his arm from her grip. "calm down if I had killed you I wouldn't have done it like that, that was too...dull." he rushed from the room phone out text furiously. Ophelia sat back next to the fire stretching her feet, if everyday was going to be like this she wouldn't be bored for once, Sherlock rushed around the room waiting for his phone to ring Ophelia eyes never left him he felt the green orbs locked on his body. "stop it."- " what I didn't do anything!" the detective stopped to stare at her and sighed annoyingly, "You were watching me and thinking. Its annoying." as she went for smart reply but Dr John Watson burst through the door out of breath. "Sherlock what's the emergency?." the doctor bent grabbing his knee huffing and puffing, "There's another murder and I need my assistant." John looked up, his face incredulous. "I left Mary at home all alone because you need an assistant, I'm getting married next Saturday for gods sake Sherlock!" Ophelia bit her lip and hid behind her long hair hoping not to get involved but John saw this movement and looked over at the flame haired girl, he cough standing up straighter, "I'm sorry how rude of me I'm John and you are?" he stepped forward as Ophelia shook his hand. "I'm Ophelia Francis I just moved in downstairs." she smiled but Sherlock decided to sigh loudly and grab John coat to pull him out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock and John arrived on the scene minutes later, a large mansion was flooded with police and forensics and to Sherlock's displeasure Anderson was working tonight. He turned to Lestrade who was pacing in front of the entrance.

"What have you got for me and don't be boring."he drawled to the greying detective, John sighed but said nothing about Sherlock's attitude.

"Follow me Ill fill you in on the way, we got a call an hour ago from one of the maids she said her employer was dead and it looked like someone had strangled her or suffocated her." they soon arrived in the master bedroom and there on the big white bed lay a young women white as snow with long dark hair framing her face, if it wasn't for the situation you could of believed she was sleeping. Sherlock moved past Anderson and looked closely at the women.

"Someone put this pillow over her face to suffocate her." he lifted a plump pillow in his gloved hand.

"She struggled a lot, you cant tell by the way the sheets are twisted no one can do that in their sleep and she has small bruises forming on her arms where she fought back, the killer was male and overpowered her." he waved John over and pointed to a tiny puncture mark on her arm that nobody but Sherlock would have seen. John frowned and took a closer look.

"This looks like a needle wound but it seem slightly bigger like who ever did it couldn't keep steady; I guess he may have sedated her because she fought him."

"Come along John I think we need to go back to our Romeo and Juliet, this was the same killer."

"What Sherlock how can they be the same? There completely different."

"This killer seems to like Shakespeare Lestrade and this death is very similar to that of Desdemona in Othello." with that Sherlock left the room with John on his tail; he hailed a cab and told them to go to Barts.

"Molly!" Sherlock shouted as he strode into the lab making the small pathologist jump.

"We need to look at the two teenagers again there seems to be a link that was missed."

"Of course their just in here."

Molly pulled the two bodies out and removed the sheets. John bent down next to the girl checking over her body while Sherlock checked the boy.

"Sherlock there's-"

"Small puncture wound slightly larger then normal maybe from the struggling victim."

"Yep."

"Me too, call Lestrade we have a serial killer on our hands."

their exit was interrupted by Johns phone ringing, he mouthed Mary to Sherlock who sighed and waited by the door.

"Yeah I'm on my way-I love you too." he put the phone away into his pocket and turned to Sherlock.

"I have to go see Mary with the wedding planner, sorry Sherlock but this is important, you will have to do this on your own." he rushed from the room to catch cab mumbling about wedding cake flavours; leaving Molly and Sherlock alone.

"ummm right well is there anything else I can help with." molly fumbled still nervous around the detective even after helping him after the fall. He shook his head and left her alone in the lab.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock quickly arrived at the flat to find Ophelia dancing to some annoyingly upbeat song, he froze in the doorway as he watched the fire haired girl twist around the room in shorts and a woollen jumper to big for her and heels; he deduced that it was her day off before her performance tomorrow night and that wearing a jumper knitted by a grandmother and dancing to something other than classical music was her way of relaxing. She spun abruptly around and grinned at him in a way that made him feel uncomfortable.

"Sherlock you're home!." she threw her arms around his neck in an embrace.

"Excellent deduction Miss Francis. Now please don't hug me its a rather unnecessary affectionate gesture."

She stepped back immediately and Sherlock brushed imaginary dirt from his coat.

"Were you embraced as a child Sherlock or do you generally hate hugs? its a form of relieving stress you know."

"My mother did in fact show me affection and that was a her fatal flaw. I also don't care for stress its dull and takes up to much space in my mind."

She laughed softly, turned her music off and faced the detective who now stared at her in concentration, he then asked her something she thought Sherlock Holmes would never ask her.

"I need an assistant, you'll do." well maybe he didn't ask in the way she fantasied about three years ago but to her it was enough.

"Really? I mean yes! of course I would be honoured." she rushed out and grabbed her purple coat from the door, they walked down the stairs in a hurry and she asked him where they were headed, he told her that Lestrade would be waiting at the station, but as they exited the front door they were immediately ambushed by photographers who were waiting to photo Sherlock; and as they saw him with Ophelia they went mad asking if she was his girlfriend and if he knew anything about the Shakespeare Killer as they dubbed him. He leaned down to Ophelia's ear.

"Take my hand and keep walking, they won't try and separate us then. We can catch a cab around the corner." he spoke very quietly but she nodded taking his gloved hand, walking faster ignoring the hounding photographers and she hid behind a curtain of her long crimson hair.

For Sherlock Holmes catching cabs seemed to be like breathing; easy and effortless, Ophelia had to practically run round in circles for one to even notice her.

They sat in silent on the way to the yard; Ophelia twitched occasionally as one would be sitting next to a man who had fascinated her very being for three years, after his supposed fall from grace; Sherlock sat next to her typing rapidly into his phone locating 'The Homeless Network,' if anyone had been seen around the victims houses one of the kids would have seen them. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and stepped from the cab as it arrived at the yard; Ophelia quickly rushed after him as he stormed through the investigation room, grinding to halt in front of Sally Donovan who argued loudly with Anderson. Ophelia just about caught her self against his back and peered around to listen to the spatting couple.

"Don't worry dear Ophelia they seem to be having another little lovers spat, oh and it seems Anderson wife has found out about their little affair, well isn't that exciting."his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned down to Ophelia. She smiled up at him indulging in his humours side while it lasted.

"Shut up! This has nothing to do with you and you little deductions." Anderson burst and stormed from Donovan, who had now noticed the beautiful red head hiding behind Sherlock towering figure.

"Whose this then freak? another one you drag around." she said raising an eyebrow at Ophelia.

"Ah Sally good to see you back to your old self again, come along Ophelia Lestrade is waiting." he gripped Ophelia's sleeve pulling her past a fuming Donovan.

A/N; The song I thought of at the beginning of the chapter was Electric twist by A fine frenzy and the lead singer is also who inspired Ophelia.


	7. Chapter 7

The week had come; Johns marriage to Mary, a beautiful woman who had helped John through his darkest days. The wedding was set for Saturday, today was Friday and Sherlock was dreading the whole thing; hours of having to socialise with people, "UGH!" He threw himself onto the sofa, he was bored and Ophelia wasn't here yet, she went to get milk...Always milk.

The Shakespeare case had been quiet for a while now, no new murders, no notes or witnesses; just more boredom and dullness for Sherlock.

"Sherlock you have a letter." Ophelia walked in milk in hand and a cream envelop in the other, he quickly took it from her hand and started inspecting it; each corner, each side and even sniffed it.

"expensive paper and ink; not been handled by more then two people, the sender and postman then."

"why don't you open it." Ophelia exclaimed after watching the detective stare intently at the envelope.

Inside was Sherlock's and Ophelia invitation to john's wedding, a new one to include Ophelia. Mary had gotten to know Ophelia last weekend when she and John came for dinner and insisted she come to the wedding.

"Oh joy a wedding, time for you to get a dress Ophelia it seems your coming to the wedding with me."she smiled widely at him while putting the milk in the fridge.

"You should be happy for John, he is your friend and blogger, that means you have to be polite at the wedding and not being rude to guests."

Sherlock just mumbled and curled up in his chair whilst looking over the case file again but he already read it hundreds of times and nothing new was hidden. Ophelia frowned at him in worry before picking her purse back up and headed for the door if she was going to look for a dress she had to start now.

"bye." she had no reply.


	8. Chapter 8

Saturday: The wedding

Ophelia sat next to Sherlock and Mrs Hudson at the front, she held the old woman's hand as she cried , It must have been like a child getting married for Mrs Hudson who had looked after John when he ran around after Sherlock like a parent.

Sherlock watched on as his best friend and new wife turned to face the crowd and everyone cheered, he smiled and clapped with them and if he was being honest his smile was real; suddenly he felt a hand grip his through the noise, he looked down to see Ophelia in her deep purple dress holding his and Mrs Hudson hands with a tear on her cheek.

That was one thing Sherlock never understood; crying at weddings, there wasn't reason he could think of that could trigger a sad emotion in a happy day. He made sure to ask her why later but right now everyone was moving on to the reception which was held outside the church in a extremely large white tent. He walked Ophelia and Mrs Hudson down the cemetery path behind John and Mary who were smile gleefully at each other whispering every now and then.

"Smile."Ophelia said looking at Sherlock who sat to her left; dinner had finished half an hour ago and everybody was dancing along side the bride and groom. Molly and Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan, who had finally made up.

Sherlock looked at her and gave a fake grin but dropped it when she glared. He sighed and stood up holding a hand out to her.

"Care to dance Miss Francis?" she took it gladly and he led them to the dance floor.

He pulled her closer with an arm around her waist, the other held her own hand. They danced slowly completely unaware that their friends looked at them in disbelief.

John smiled and hoped that Sherlock might turn out normal and have a relationship; then maybe he would get married too, because John knew underneath Sherlock's cold looks and glares there was a great man and just like Lestrade said he may even become a good one.

Speaking of Lestrade he smiled over at John and pulled Molly just a little closer, she had been so helpful and kind to him through his divorce; always there to comfort him when things got to much.

And still he watched as the detective twirled the red head around and Lestrade was sure a smile graced the detectives face.


	9. Chapter 9

After the night had calmed down and there was a quiet hum of conversation through out the room, a low bell noise sounded; Sherlock received a text message,

'All that lives must die.'

He frowned and he was sure it was a quote; he must have deleted this one. He looked around the room for Ophelia she must know what it is. He spotted her then sitting with John and Mary, striding over quickly he sat to her right and swiftly looked at her face; she turned to him smirking.

"Go on, what is it you're dying to ask me?" John and Mary turned to Sherlock expectantly.

"all lives must die."

"what?"

"where is that quote from."

"its hamlet Sher-"

"I just got a text saying, 'All lives must die'. I think our killer wants my attention."

Sherlock jumped to his feet and ran for the door, before he could leave he spun and called out to Ophelia and with a apologetic smile to Mary and John she rushed after the mad man.

_x_

Ophelia was thankful that she wore flat shoes, because right in this very second she and Sherlock were running down the street toward baker street, she asked him why they weren't taking a cab and he simply told her what he failed to do before; they were being followed and if they go by foot they could get up to the roof tops and go through Mrs Hudson kitchen window.

Not many people roamed the street, so the couple running into alleyways and climbing ladders weren't seen by anyone. They came to a stand still and Sherlock pulled them up onto a ladder leading to a roof garden. Ophelia followed him to the centre of the roof.

"How did you know someone one was following us? There's no body out here."

"You see but you do not observe, divert your eyes to your left. You will see a man standing on the corner of the alley looking around. He lost us."

He was right, a tall man stood below them looking around and talking into a phone, to a normal person he could be just a stranger but Sherlock said this man was following them and Ophelia was going with him on that. Sherlock turned to her and pulled her to the back of the roof, toward another ladder.

"Climb down the ladder, at about half way you will see Mrs Hudson kitchen window." she started to climb and realised that she didn't even recognise 221 from the back.

Both Sherlock and Ophelia were safely in the living room sitting on the floor with the lights out, they could still hear the man outside talking to whoever was on the phone, from what they could hear he was explaining how he lost them. He very angry. The last thing he said made them freeze.

'I'll get the girl first'


End file.
